Just Enough
by caesara
Summary: When she asks, Carlisle tells Bella a story about himself and Esme. A sweet one-shot about their love. Some father/daughter fluff also.


I hope you all enjoy this! I was feeling really sappy, so this is what happened! :D

From Carlisle POV.

* * *

If all our life is but a dream, fantastic posing greed

then we should feed our jewelry to the sea,

for diamonds do appear to be

just like broken glass to me.

-Northern Downpour

* * *

Bella was in my study, curled on the couch and waiting for me to begin.

I chuckled. "So this is really story time with Carlisle?" I asked, taking a seat in my rolling chair that she had pulled up to the edge of the couch.

"Yes." Bella said nodding her head in certainty. "I want to hear a story about you and Esme and how you knew she was the one for you."

"Why?" I asked curiously. She had never asked this of me before, and it was certainly unexpected and unplanned. She had been in bed before she came down to ask me this.

My daughter looked away from me and shrugged.

"Renee and Phil are getting divorced." She said, almost as if it was not a big deal.

"I'm sorry." I said and brushed her hair back in what I hoped was a comforting gesture. No wonder she couldn't sleep.

"She thought he was the one, ya know? I don't know, it just didn't work out...again." A few tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Oh, Bella..."

"I just don't want to be like her!" She cried, looking at me with pleading eyes.

"I know that Edward is who I want to spend the rest of my life with, but so did my mother with Charlie and Phil." She paused. "What if it runs in the family?" Bella asked, looking slightly panicked with more tears.

"That's ridiculous and you know it." I chided softly. "You are not like Renee, Bella, you never have been. And Edward _is_ the one for you. Don't doubt that."

She sniffed again, nodding and I continued to brush her hair back.

After a few minutes I wiped some stray tears from her cheeks and suggested a story about a date that Esme and I had been on.

Bella smiled and wiped her face on her blanket, sitting up. She patted a spot on the cushion next to her.

"Will you sit next to me?" She asked.

"Of course." I said, smiling and sat down on the couch with her. She leaned over and laid her head on my shoulder, waiting for me to begin. I was shocked until I realized that she had probably never done that with Charlie or Phil. I was the only father in her life that she would do something like this with. Suddenly, I felt very honored.

"Okay, here it goes...The Italian resturant we were at was immaculate. The ceiling was decorated with beautiful carvings of angels and goddesses that played stringed instruments in sadness or joy; the giant hand-made chandelier was simply clothed in the finest of diamonds. It was enormous in size and covered a vast majority of the ceiling. The crystals that glinted and shone from where they dangled seemed to whisper the words of their beauty to any who would listen.

Our table held delicate engravings of Greek-like design and was draped with a deep cream colored silk. Yet I sat, feeling my heart go into a familiar place again, and it was not a particularly happy place.

"What's wrong?" Esme asked me. She sipped the blood that was in the the champaign glass in front of her. Even with the rarest of blood, I could see that she was not happy because I was not. It was almost painful to think about.

I looked into her eyes. They were so pure.

"This chandelier that I built for you..." I began glancing up at the glittering fragments of sun, "Do you like it?"

Her perfect heart-shaped face looked slightly confused, but she smiled anyway.

"I love it sweetie. I told you that 76 years ago when you made it." She brought her hand across the table and laid it on my own. My soul seemed to sooth by her touch. "And every time we come here you ask me that. Why?"

Her voice was caring and soft as always, but her eyes told all. She would not let it go, and I knew it was because she was worried, not because she wanted to be in my head, although she had mentioned a few times that she thought it would be interesting to have our son's abililty.

I brushed a fingered a piece of her curly brown hair that framed her face and rested on her shoulder. Before I could speak again she looked me in the eyes intently.

"You worry me sometimes, Carlisle. Being immortal doesn't mean you feel nothing. And right now I can tell you're feeling something...horrible." If she could have cried, she would have. I felt terrible for making her feel that way.

"I am sorry, my love, it is just that lately I have been thinking..." I wasn't sure what to say. Being a doctor I _thought _all of the time, though most things were mindless tasks for me, I did think. I couldn't exactly tell her what I was thinking without sounding somewhat crazy, but I would try. She deserved it.

I looked straight into her green orbs of glory. Her face was thoughtful.

"I feel like if I slept at this momet I would only relive my life forever."

She nodded, expecting me to continue.

"I try to live my life setting a good example and living a good life, but I don't know if it's enough."

She nodded again, but somehow I couldn't continue. Not for the first time I wondered if living in a house with a mind reader and a phsycic made me guard my thoughts more often than I should. Then, on what was supposed to be a beautiful night for Esme and me, I ruin it with my thoughts going crrazy.

Esme said nothing. Instead she smiled and caressed my cheek.

"Oh, Carlisle, you just don't feel like you deserve this." I was shocked by her words. I didn't think that's what I thought.

"Es-"

"Shhh. You know I am right. You were looking at that chandelier and thinking of the meaning of life itself like you always do when you have that look on your face. And you thought, if I died right now what would happen, would anyone even remember me?"

"Esme I-"

"Shhh. Then you asked me if I liked your gift because for a split second you thought that it might be the only thing people would remember you for-the wealthy patron who donated a $150,000 chandelier to the Bel Cibo for your wife."

I frowned. Had I thought that? Yes, indeed I had-almost subconciously-but it was there.

I blew out a puff of air that I didn't need.

"Esme, you know me too well." I said, not for the first time.

"No," She said, taking my face into her hands, "I know you _just_ enough."

She stared at me like she had when we first met, like the time we had a marriage ceremony even though we're both dead. She stared at me like she loved me, as if nothing in the world could ever tear us apart, like our souls danced for one another... And that is how I know Esme is right for me." I said.

Bella was almost asleep, I could tell.

"I know she is the one because she knows more about me than I know about myself and because I can _feel_ her love."

Bella, with her eyes still closed, smiled and murmered, "I can feel Edward's love right now. It's like he's here." And then she went to sleep with her head on my shoulder and her mouth slightly open, looking impossibly human.

I looked up. Edward was standing in the doorway.

"You better not ever upset her." I told him, suddenly feeling very protective of the girl on my side.

He shook his head with a smile on his face. " I won't. I love her just enough."


End file.
